Honesty
by Glinda
Summary: Sometimes honesty is the only thing left to give. Sarah Jane, Harry, Josh.


Author's Notes: Written for the After School Ficathon (Sarah-Jane post School Reunion) the prompt being _Josh & Nat, Harry and angst. _So sometime after the Sarah-Jane audio adventures and featuring certain members of UNIT and a funeral.

In Josh's experience strangers who turn up on Sarah's doorstep unexpectedly and ask for her by her full name, especially those who exasperatedly reel off a list of her aliases in the face of his own reluctance to grant them entrance, are always going to be trouble. Sure, gone are the days when just being able to find her was a cause for suspicion, but still, 'old friends' are not something she has in abundance. The current gentleman was no exception, especially not when he appeared on the morning of the funeral of one of those few 'old friends' she did have.

He'd been surprised enough to discover that Sarah had any contacts left in UNIT, let alone any she'd want to attend the funeral of. But here they both were getting ready to attend the funeral of one Sergeant Major John Benton; confusingly both retired and killed in action. Sarah had been all quietly smiling and enigmatic when he'd asked which only served to make him all the more interested. Clearly despite her continued distrust of officialdom, this particular soldier had held a special place in heart. When she'd asked him to accompany her, her voice had shaken in a slight yet telling fashion. The last thing she needed right now, was yet another face from the past, if this bloke really was an 'old friend'.

The man standing in the doorway managed to look scruffy even in a suit, and his whole body language spoke of a man tired half to death. He found himself inviting the older man into the kitchen, half because he thought he might keel over there and then.

Apparently the man was Harry Sullivan, at least that had been what Sarah had exclaimed at the visitor on laying eyes on him. Despite her recognition, Josh still wasn't entirely comfortable about his presence. She was, well if it had been any one other than Sarah, he'd have said she was fluttering around him. A constant stream of bright, inconsequential chatter flowing from her mouth as she made tea for the three of them, the man at the table still sitting half slumped in the chair. Saying nothing.

Excusing himself Josh took refuge in the living room and phoned Nat for backup. A quick check online revealed the UNIT connection and one to ThinkTank that rings alarm bells till it becomes clear that he helped Sarah bring them down and makes him wonder if Miss Winters and co had been making his life hell too. Between the worn look of their visitor and a few hints Nat digs up it doesn't seem too far from the truth. Ex Deputy Director's of MI5 don't wear suits that look like they were bought in the 80s. This man has been in hiding for a long time.

Returning to the kitchen he's able to observe the pair of them unnoticed. Now its Sarah who's sitting down, with Harry crouched down facing her chair, holding her hand. Looking closer he can see she's crying, (What is it with men called Sullivan and making her cry, he wonders?) and perhaps more worryingly not making any attempt to try to hide or make light of it. She's just holding onto his hand so tightly her knuckles have gone white, while she listens to him talk in a quiet insistent voice that Josh can't quite make out from his vantage point. What he does gather is that Harry knows something about this Benton's death, has quite possibly broken cover to inform Sarah of this. For a moment the older man's expression changes, softening, his eyes haunted by grief and guilt, as though a mask Josh hadn't been aware of before had slipped out of place. He wants to kick the other man, shout at him, how can he watch Sarah grieve and not offer her comfort, especially when he is so clearly grieving himself. By the time Sarah looks back up the mask is back in place, all stiff upper-lip practicality and looking like an ex-public school boy fallen on hard times. They've fallen into forced cheerful teasing when Josh makes his presence felt. Picking at each other's foibles as though it hasn't been a decade since they last met. They both tell him ridiculous anecdotes about their youthful adventures finishing each other sentences and sneaking insults at each other. When the time comes for them all to leave the laughter is almost entirely genuine and heartfelt. They part with an awkward yet affectionate hug, while Sarah breaks the fragile atmosphere of cheer by thanking him in a voice that shakes just a little. He'll be at the funeral but they won't see him.

Standing quietly at her side at the grave, as Sarah comments on what a good man Benton had been, how brave, how at least his death hadn't been for nothing, what a comfort knowing that is to her, Josh wonders just how much Harry's sacrificed to give Sarah that little comfort, the only kind he has to give. To be there for her in his own way. He thinks he pities the other man now, whose identity and masks have become so intertwined that not even the oldest of his friends can see the lines between anymore. Slinging an arm round her shoulders he feels her head fall onto his shoulder. Offering comfort in the way that _he_ knows best.


End file.
